Beyond Beauty
by ScarletteDream
Summary: Raven is a lost and confused street roaming thief. What happens when she meets a jam-loving murderer who sweeps her off her feet and might even stop her heartbeat? Beyond BirthdayXOC
1. Chapter 1: Realization

_**Scarlette here! To be honest, this is my first fanfiction, but not my first story. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated... Praise is preferable. Reviews are applauded. Please? Own Death Note? Why no, no I do not.**_

_And as the tears streamed down her face, he smiled. He smiled, as she looked up at him with gleaming eyes, he began to chuckle, his laugh harsh and piercing as the look upon his face. Beneath his ebony hair, his eyes gleamed red as passion, as blood. She uttered a pathetic cry, a whimper, if you will, and he stared down at her. The words he spoke had no purpose, no meaning at all as he grinned his malevolent grin..._

Raven awoke with a gasp, her thin fingers clutching her throat, as if to hold it together, her face was wet with tears. The blank white walls of her New York apartment seemed to close in on her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She rolled off the mattress onto the ground and stretched, musing upon the puzzling nightmare. The man was dark, intense, and entrancing.

"Only a dream Raven, nothing more, nothing to fear." She coaxed herself as she pulled on her coat in a whirl of black leather. She raced down the stairs with familiarity and alertness, all the while making sure she wasn't being followed.

Raven peered around the corner and casually followed a tall man that was holding a briefcase. My first client of the day… The smooth gesture took much practice; she had it down to an art. She grinned smugly as she ambled along the sidewalk, pausing briefly in an alleyway to count her findings.

"It's a living," she murmured "someone has to make use of what they don't need." Her emerald eyes glimmered darkly. She chewed her lower lip and clicked her boot heels together to the fast paced beat of the New York streets as she pondered her escape from the scrums of the wretched place.

The bricks of the building were cold behind her, the wind was icy and biting her nose and reddening her cheeks. She shivered and broke from her trance. A small blonde haired child passed by, in one hand, a balloon, the other, his mother's gloved hand. Raven smiled and waved briefly, the boy waved back, releasing his balloon, Raven followed it with her eyes as the boy's mother, a small and rather round woman, tugged her child away, a revolted look on her face.

"Away," Raven said with a smile, "I need to get away"

Raven had never had much, but then, she'd always been careful never to take more than she needed; bits and pieces for rent, small things for food when the world began to spin around her; not too much, just enough to live from, but today, she worked fervently, cautious, of course, not to take too much from any certain individual; never enough to put someone in her position.

The bitter wind nipped at her legs through her ripped jeans, the cold was nearly unbearable for her, blue fingers cold and numb due to fingerless gloves. Stepping into the travel agency, she rubbed her hands together in an attempt to regain some feeling in her frozen fingers. "Somewhere warm," she decided with a nod to overly giddy travel agent, "warm and crowded where I'll blend in." The paper said she was to leave in three days. "Three days until freedom," she breathed with a grin dancing across her lips.

_Los Angles, California_ Raven thought in disbelief, reading the paper over and over again, checking her pocket once more for the plane ticket. She went back to the apartment she could barely call home and showered hastily. Pausing in front of the cracked mirror above the sink, she cocked her head to the side and studied her features.

She wasn't plain, of course, but not stunning either. She traced the line of her rounded jaw, and then studied her high cheekbones and petite nose, nothing was really quite normal about her, but her features were certainly not beauteous; undoubtedly so. She splashed warm water from the faucet onto her face, cringing at the irony taste of the liquid. She closed her eyes and thought of the dream man with ebony hair and red eyes. He was beautiful in a frightening and captivating manner.

_**Like it?**_ _**Should I write more? Feedback, People! Feedback!**_


	2. Chapter 2: Getaway

_**Dearest Readers, **_

_**Scarlette here (obviously). I apologize for the shortness of the following chapter, I'm lacking inspiration and running on insomniac behaviors, forgive me and pardon my mistakes. Oh and review the heck out of it! Own Death Note? No no no, society would never grant me the pleasure.  
**_

_ She stumbled through the room and gazed into the mirror. Pulse racing, she outlined the countdown above her head. She blinked; her once grassy green eyes now flaring ruby red. Her fingertips upon the cold glass surface sent a shiver down her spine. She looked up and he appeared in the doorway and stared in horror while he wrapped one thin hand around her throat. He leaned in close, his face in her rich brown hair. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, it made her skin crawl. "It is time." He whispered; his voice was rich and smooth as honey._

Raven shot up from her pillows and glared at her alarm clock, the small analog contraption still screeching despite the fact it had already fallen from the table. It was eight fifteen in the morning and today was the day. She stood wearily and stumbled over her suitcase on the way to her closet; she pulled the last pair of jeans from the hanger and pulled a torn t-shirt over her slim form, shoving what was left of her wardrobe into the tattered suitcase that she'd found behind the Sheraton near Times Square. It had a musty smell to it but she'd figured it was better than plastic grocery bags. Raven put on a small knit cap and fingerless gloves after getting into her black trench, it was cold but she sighed at the familiar feel of leather on her pale arms.

She set off down those stairs for the last time and strolled down 47th street, no regrets or intentions of returning. As she waited for her scheduled taxi, sewer air blew up from the grates in the street, another thing she would never miss about the New York City streets. She felt a flush of warmth in her cheeks as she thought of her dream only moments ago. A small yellow vehicle interrupted her recollection and a stout bearded man with a thick New Yorker accent helped her stow her bag in the trunk. She got into the cab and breathed the stale pine scented air, courtesy of the tree shaped air freshener that dangled from the rearview mirror, and slowly nodded off back to sleep.

"Ay!" sounded her less-than-pleasant awakener, the cab driver, as he shoved his chubby hand in her face, obviously demanding payment. She placed a wad of bills in his hand and stepped out into the icy air to retrieve her suitcase and report for her flight. It was a particularly grey day and the clouds were rolling lazily across the sky smothering out the occasional sunray.

The airport was stuffy and crowded with screaming children, pushy parents, and bustling businessmen toting briefcases and hurriedly checking their wristwatches. Obnoxious men sat at small booths at either side of the hall selling food, souvenirs, and expressing their political opinions. She approached a small coffee stand and leaned against the counter, placing an order for a 'tall' cup of green tea. _Some place…_ she thought with a look around, the high ceilings were home to a series of skylights. Raven watched as a plane glided above the port and headed for its destination. She turned around and placed $3.75 on the counter and slid her overpriced tea to the sweeteners, promptly emptying a cup of cream and about eleven or twelve packets of honey into the slowly steeping Styrofoam cup. She stirred the mixture with one of the small coffee straws then pulled the steaming concoction to her face, inhaled deeply and smiled.

Upon her emptying of the small foam cup, Raven set off through the airport in a leisurely pace, grazing the signs overhead, looking for the Central Terminal, one hand in her pocket, her fingers gripping tightly her promise of departure, flight 505.


	3. Chapter 3: Beginning

_**Own Death Note? No, unfortunately... If I did, don't you think I'd be busy with a journal and not wishful fanfiction... **_

Raven approached the line with high hopes and took her place within the roped area behind a rather hefty man who was toting a bag more than twice the size of her own. She ruffled her already messy bangs and took another step towards the desk, her brown leather valise squeaking softly with wear. Continuously shifting her weight from one foot to the other for what felt to her like a millennium, she'd finally made it. She successfully delivered her ticket to the appropriate destination, made it through the metal detector without issues, didn't get tackled by savage security guards for the pair of tweezers she'd kept in the pocket of her coat, and though she'd expected the worst, she was there. _All in one piece;_ she thought with a smile.

She eased into the standard chair as far from the window as she could get without sitting in the aisle way to be trampled by trolleys and flight attendants. Her stomach was fluttering, every inch of her body was tingling, her cheeks were red, her hands and breathing were trembling; panic had finally found her…

Raven had been afraid of heights from the time when she was only four years old, she had fallen from the willow tree in her front yard, since then, not only was she forbidden to climb trees, she never wanted to be more than two feet off the ground. But this was her second plane ride, her second attempt at finding her place; when she was 18 her parents told her to make something of herself.

She smiled inwardly at the memory, looking down at herself and thinking of the source of this funding, other people's pockets. _Gee, wouldn't Gwen be proud of her little girl now… _She ran a hand through her mass of messy hair and settled into the chair, her lids were drooping, warning of her impending state of hibernation. The infant in the seat across the aisle her cooed softly in its mother's arms, reminding her of the glistening prospects in the future she'd finally found, and with that, she nodded off.

…………………

Beyond Birthday stalked the streets of LA, numbers soaring past as he scanned for the rapidly lowering lifespan of three different individuals. Only three, he only needed three to prove himself…to make history… His thoughts were interrupted as he found his second victim, a young girl. He cocked one eyebrow as he read the name above the ephemeral numbers, "Quarter Queen," he exhaled. He noted the peculiar name and followed the girl to an apartment complex.

On this late Saturday evening, the yard in front of the dormitories was littered with stumbling hormonal young adults that were under the influence of what Beyond perceived to be much more than legal substances. The scent of the smoky substance made him wrinkle his nose. He pulled the baseball cap over his eyes and pursued the girl distantly. _ This is far too easy…_ Thought Beyond Birthday as he weaved through the crowded corridor, past a ravishing young couple and up a few flights of stairs. Quarter Queen pulled a key from the pocket of her faded blue jeans and opened the apartment door. Her shadow turned corner and pulled open the door to the men's room, relief washed over his slender form, the locks were standardized, each door the same as all the rest. The pieces were falling into place; every clue was laid out in his mind.

The game begins.

_**Reviews?! Please!? I beg of you! Tell all your friends! I'm lonesome here on my own, seldomly receiving any reviews... Tell me what you'd like to see in my next chapter? I appologize for the lack of dream sequence in this one... Toodles!**_


	4. Chapter 4: Sanctuary

_**Own Death Note? Why, No, No I do not! I apologize to all of you who even read this**_. **_Inspiration evades me._**

**_Feedback please? *Edit* Wow, I am a nimrod; this chapter needs extreme tweaking._**

"_Where is everyone?" she glanced about her surroundings, everything appeared to be in ruins. The edges of her vision blurred and all the other passengers had evaporated. The plane shook violently and the engine was screaming. She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth that could only be described as fear, rose to her feet and shakily made her way to the cockpit. Her palms were sweating. Every tocsin in her body screamed with warning as she placed one unsteady hand on the handle of the door. The cold metal was a shock to her senses, each sound was amplified causing the screeching of the plane to be unbearable, the acerbic taste burnt her taste buds; she turned the handle and pushed it open. Her heart stopped. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and goosebumps slithered across her skin._

_The figure in the pilot seat pushed the controls forward, causing the plane to jolt, Raven lost her balance and fell to the uniform carpeted aisle way. He turned to face her. His frigorific ruby stare bore into her form. Her heart pounded, threatening to burst through her ribcage at any moment. He stood and slowly stepped towards her, a sinister smile glistening on his face. She stared in awe, her breath stolen, her mind had frozen, she was unable to move; he reached down sluggishly and gripped her arm tightly..._

Her eyes shot open as the landing gear kissed the ground gently, receiving a small smile from the gentleman beside her. "You were sleeping;" he explained while running a hand through his curly coffee-colored hair, "So I fastened your belts for you." She nodded drowsily and attempted a return of the smile, likely resulting in something like a grimace.

She stepped off the plane; her legs were slightly shaky and there was a polemic pounding in her skull. Raven relaxed her grip on the handle of her bag, inhaling sharply through her nose, and sort-of waddled her way through the motions, the carpeted tunnel into the airport and the echoing room of fake smiles and cell phone calls. She pushed open the door with her hip and took her first breath of West Coast air; it was cool and crisp on her tongue. She braced herself, set her case on the concrete in front of her shoes and hailed a taxi.

After a long and searing California day, Beyond Birthday closed and locked the paint-chipped wooden door of his cheap motel room, ambled lethargically to the window box air conditioner. Turning the dial all the way to the right, he flopped onto the tattered mattress that sat in the middle of the room.

It was true that he missed the cool, drizzly weather that surrounded the orphanage; it fit his personality, ice cold and partly cloudy with a chance of rain. He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his blue jumpsuit. He grimaced; it came back damp. Grunting, he stood, unzipped the tent of a garment, and then walked towards the bathroom, pausing briefly in front of the air conditioner.

He turned the faucet handle, it squeaked. B held his hands below the tap, allowing the cool reddish-colored water to trickle between his long slender digits. He splashed the stuff on his face; the taste reminded him of the scolding Roger for placing a copper into his mouth. He was three years of age, surely he could not have known better. Better things are expected of you in Wammy's House for Gifted Orphans. B learned better. He had learned _**so much more**__._


End file.
